


The Birth of a Franchise

by thedreadsatanica



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Gen, Psychological Horror
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-13
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-22 04:11:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8272336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedreadsatanica/pseuds/thedreadsatanica
Summary: Mike Schmidt returns from Vietnam, weary and tired. He settles into life as a security guard for a hiring firm. Eventually, he's assigned to the new restaurant in town, built by an eccentric entrepreneur who has several unique ideas on how to build up a franchise.





	1. Part I

  
Yeah, I’ve seen some pretty crazy things.  
I toured Vietnam twice and saw all kinds of crazy stuff.  Saw a whole bunch of men I fought with and killed with fall into bamboo trap pits.  They were never killed instantly. They’d be screaming for minutes until we’d be able to steel ourselves enough to put them out of their misery with bullets to their brains.  
I walked though villages where corpses where nailed against trees, walls, any structure that hadn’t been burned to the ground completely.  
I even saw buddy of mine explode from limb to limb in a cloud of blood and guts while we were trying to go to sleep.  Part of what I think might have been his ear landed against my chest.  
Yeah, I’ve seen some pretty crazy things.  
You’d think there’d be very little that could faze me after it all. That I’d be able to go home and live the rest of my life without ever seeing anything on that level of crazy again.   
So in a ways it’s kind of funny how wrong I was.  
  
I had a few scholarships thrown in my face when I came back. Lots of universities and institutions wanted to show their appreciation for what we did. They were planning to offer us full rides, tuition fully paid for degree programs that were designed to help us get back into the thick of things.  
I didn’t bother to accept any of them. I never really cared all that much about school before I left and I sure didn’t care about it any more when I came back.  
So I decided to do what I felt comfortable with. I went looking for work.  
Mr. Mizzuchi, the owner of the grocery store I used to stock shelves at, wasn’t exactly welcoming of my return. Said he didn’t want a murderer and/or rapist working in his store.  
I could’ve put him on full blast, let the whole town know of his lack of appreciation for those who served. But I honestly didn’t care. I didn’t want to be somewhere I wasn’t welcome at – not anymore.  
  
After a few odd jobs here and there, I managed to find steady employment with a security firm in ’81. They’d hire people out for mostly temporary positions as security guards, night watchmen, and armored truck escorts and the like.   
This was when I first found about that place.   
It was fairly new, having been built just a few years after I came home from the war in ’75.  They had built it on land no one had thought was suitable for development. The ground was pretty much all marshy and there was a large swamp running just beyond it.  Technology is a pretty crazy thing, as I’d find out time and time again in the coming years.   
By all accounts it shouldn’t have been possible to build a family restaurant around there. That’s why the price to purchase the area was so low too. And that’s why one ambitious entrepreneur was able to gamble with chance and win.   
  
Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza was built in a short amount of time and in a short amount of time it was bombarded with patronage.  
People loved having a cheap and affordable family restaurant in their community.  Parents would bring their kids to Freddy’s for every occasion – birthdays, play dates, little league wins – you name it.  The food was inexpensive and, by most accounts, not half bad as far as taste went. And there were a whole slew of attractions to keep the kids entertained.  
They had a large indoor playground with arcade machines, ball pits, and tube tunnels. The kids even got to spend time with the mascots, some poor fools spending their days sweating in massive fur suits.  But it was all a part of the image, see.  
The mascots were supposed to be best friends to the kids. They were the main reason the place got so popular so fast.   
Three of the mascots were supposed to be in a fictional band that was allegedly behind the music that played in the place. (The actual musicians behind the songs were part of some no name indie group that you’d be hard pressed to find anything about these days.)  
There was Bonnie the Bunny, the guitarist. I always thought he looked more like a dog because of his large snout and row of canine like teeth. Didn’t really matter because the kids loved him all the same. He was probably the second most popular mascot there. The kids would all line up to get pictures with him and his guitar, something those playing as him were instructed never to be without.   
The rabbit was presented as a rock star who never let his guitar out of his sight.  One of the older activity pamphlets that would be handed out featured a short comic where he frantically searched for his guitar with bulging, bloodshot eyes.  Finally he was able to calm down when a few of his kid friends (who were photographed into the comic as opposed to drawn in, as the mascots were) helped him find it.  
Then there was Chica the backup singer, a chicken.  Her best friend was this anthropomorphic cupcake who she carried around with her. The cupcake (who I’m sure had a name at one point which I long since forgot) was supposedly ‘shy’ and needed help making friends.  
So, the people playing Chica would usually hand out sugary treats such as lollipops and bubble gum to kids as ‘presents’ from the cupcake in order to help it along.   
The band’s singer and leader, Freddy Fazbear, was named after the restaurant (or was it the other way around?) and as such, was the star of the show.  The people playing him were instructed to wait to come out as him during the course of the day.  Bonnie and Chica would get the kids warmed up, and when Freddy came out on to the floor they’d all go wild.  The kids loved him and would buy anything with his face on it. It was a lucrative business plan for those involved.  The restaurant would sell t-shirts, mugs, party hats and favors, and just about anything else they could stamp Freddy and his friends onto.  Merchandise with Freddy on it would sell best, of course.  After a while the restaurant stopped pushing products exclusively featuring Bonnie and Chica and focused primarily on Freddy.  
  
But where do I fit into all of this?  
I was working there briefly as a security guard on particularly busy nights.   
The state had a mandate that said something about how businesses in certain “bad” parts of town needed to hire professional services in order to keep patrons safe.   
I wouldn’t go so far as to say that the part of town the restaurant was in was “bad”, by any means.  There were just a few low income housing projects located not too far from it and the occasional bouts of gang like activity (really though, graffiti spraying was the worst of it.)  
Anyways – I was working as a security guard, keeping tabs on what was going on through security cameras and occasional perimeter walks when the owner approached me.  
He was a heavy set man, possibly nearing his fifties, with a doughy face and a thick, black mustache set underneath a beak shaped nose. His eyes were set far back into his head and there were dark circles around his eyelids. A top his head was a thinning mop of coarse black hair.  Obviously his appearance didn’t do him any favors during my first impression.   
I had expected someone strange and creepy who might possibly have been a pedophile.  
Couldn’t have been farther from the truth.  
The man may have looked like a mortician and shuffled about as if he was on his way to embalm a corpse, but that’s not who he was.   
He smiled a lot and would laugh in a high pitched, dolphin like tone.   
He said he was honored to meet me, humbled by my sacrifice and duty to our country.  He wanted to offer me a job. Said that the budget was tight and renting out security guards from an outside firm was getting rather expensive.  
(I would learn later that the firm I worked for would shake him for more and more money with each subsequent interaction. It was easy since the guy seemed like such a push over, according to my boss).  
I was to be the sole security personnel he’d hire, overseeing all manners of security and the safety of the place’s patrons.  The pay was going to be significantly higher than what I would have made if I stayed with the firm (since they took a percentage out of every job I got paid for).   
And so, in ’83 I found myself working for Freddy’s Fazbear’s Pizza. And for a time it seemed like things were going well.  The pay was good, the clientele generally easy to deal with, and the owner respected me and allotted me a lot of freedom with how I conducted my responsibilities.  But then they brought in the animatronics.  
And that’s when I started seeing a whole other level of pretty crazy shit.


	2. Part II

It astonishes me how well I remember that day.

Guess memories have a way like that. You’re able to note all the tiny details of an event that affects you deeply.

I remember it being fairly cloudy. And windy. It was late into February and Winter was just starting to slow down. Normally it wouldn’t be so cold that you’d have to wear a sweater outside but that day was different.   
There was something about the wind, how it almost felt like it was biting down on you and raking its thin, long fingers across your face.

I remember that it was only about a week earlier that I had finally moved into my own place. It was a second floor apartment with a busted heating system that I couldn’t afford to have looked at at the time.

My father had died just a short while ago and I was spending most of my paychecks looking after my mother. She was always urging me to move back into the family home. Said the place felt odd without anyone else. Said she was having these strange dreams.

I set out for the restaurant early that day. I suppose I should mention that we didn’t have an overnight shift at the time.   
Not yet.

I stepped in through the front doors, solid wood painted a deep red. The owner was sitting at this high chair, set at the front desk, wiping his brow with a handkerchief. His hair was disheveled and matted with sweat. He smiled weakly at me when I entered and led me back to the party hall.

There had been construction going on to build a stage in the back of it and I could see now that it was complete. But that wasn’t the first thing I noticed. Not by a long shot. Because in the center of the stage stood the animatronics, poised as if ready to perform.

The owner had made a big deal about how they were coming in today. It was the reason why I had come early, to help get them set up. And apparently I didn’t need to since they had come assembled when the owner opened up the crates they were delivered in.

He had commissioned them from an Eastern European country with a hard to pronounce name. I was told what it was called several times but I could never really commit it to memory. What I did remember was that it had almost half the wealth of the Kremlin but none of its ambition.

Whatever company or group of individuals it was that constructed those puppets did it on the cheap. Maybe that’s why Freddy didn’t look nearly as polished as the other two. They had trouble getting his look down, according to the owner. His color was all off, a musky sort of yellow that could deceivingly look like gold under poor lighting. But he was able to perform just fine and stood in front of Bonnie and Chica with a wide, gaping grin.

I remember watching them in a kind of dazed stupor over the following months as they “debuted.” They’d play a couple of songs every half hour or so and then fall back into a lifeless state. Until they were given the ability to walk.

The company or group of individuals that had constructed them had next sent over devices that they had been working on. The servos, when installed, let them move their legs in slow and robotic motions. They’d be able to walk off the stage when they weren’t playing their songs, free to mingle with (mostly) enthusiastic patrons.

The devices weren’t the only thing sent over that time, however. There was also a new animatronic.


	3. Part III

The animatronics were designed with the servos technology in mind.  
It was to enable them to move their joints in a pattern that befit their performances.  
Bonnie would click his fingers against his guitar in a clunky motion. Occasionally the audio track had Freddy calling for the rabbit to “take it away”, leading him to pantomime a guitar solo.  
It was truly surreal to watch, but no less entertaining for the kids.  
They’d cheer out every time Bonnie began his solos, sometimes joining him on stage to play air guitar alongside him.  
Chica got an equally warm reception as the kids would sing along with her. Her vocal track would urge kids to clap their hands, repeat phrases and the like.  
And of course she’d incorporate that cupcake into her performance. Her robotic wing would rise in a stiff motion as she twirled around her frosted friend.

These motions of theirs required little to no effort on our part.  
The servos installed within them had already been set as far as basic behavioral patterns go, and it required no tweaking.  
It was Freddy that gave us a bit of trouble. Not only was his color scheme totally off, his movements were slightly stunted as well.  
The other animatronics didn’t require nearly as much maintenance as him.  
And when I say maintenance, I mean basic, rudimentary stuff like applying oil and lube and ensuring that their outside screws and bolts were secure.  
We never got the chance to actually look inside a bot and tinker with its inner workings.

Until we got the second shipment.  
That Eastern European based company or group of individuals had been tinkering with the servos technology for some time.  
When they sent over Bonnie, Chica, and Freddy, the technology was still in its conceptual stages. However it was functional to the point where it could do what the owner wanted - allowing the bots to perform.

After about a year, it had been advanced to the point of giving the bots the ability to walk around.  
When it was sent over it also came with a disassembled fourth animatronic.  
The fourth animatronic, Foxy, was who the company had been primarily testing the technology on. He was the first to be given the ability to walk.  
But there were problems.  
His movements were too fast at times, and despite all the tinkering his creators had done, they could not find a way to adequately adjust his behavior.  
That was why he had come in the way he did. We were told to reassemble him at our own risk since he could potentially pose a hazard to patrons.  
The owner ignored the warning, brushing it off as “third world ignorance and superstition.” According to him, what we had was something amazing and it would be a shame not to put it to its full use. It wouldn’t have been fair to our patrons. And besides, the kids could use another best friend (whose merchandise their parents could spend lots of money on.)

The other animatronics were also installed with new servos, a task I had completed by disassembling them in order to fit the devices in.  
Inside of them were complex mechanical endoskeletons with some rather sharp bits and pieces. I had to carefully move my arm around as I worked so as not to get pricked.

As I then sat back and watched them over the next few months I was certainly in awe.  
It made me wonder about the war again.  
It made me wonder if technology like this had existed at the time…..  
And then the realization that it was a technology being developed by a country that had no political ties to our own jolted me back to the present.  
I began to contemplate just what could be done if those developing it had the wrong intentions.  
I guess thinking about all that was the main reason I decided that I wanted to learn more.

They set Foxy up in his own exhibition - Pirate Cove.  
He was the captain of his own ship, a slender animatronic set into the wall with long lashed eyes and full, red lips.  
His ship would sometimes sing along with the crew, tiny animatronics designed in the shape of otters, badgers and the like.  
Their designs were quite creative, if not a tad unusual.

I had originally thought that the kids would have a hard time adjusting to Foxy because of his appearance. He had an eyepatch over one eye, a hook for a hand, and razor sharp teeth. He even moved differently than the other animatronics, jolting his body around at random intervals.  
And when he was given leeway to walk around the restaurant, he’d move a lot faster than the others, sometimes bounding down the hallways in full sprints.  
Since we couldn’t adjust his programming and since the owner didn’t want to shut him off in the fear of losing out on money despite the risks he posed; we simply asked parents to be extremely careful with their children around him.

This unfortunately fell on some deaf ears and despite our warnings; an incident was bound to happen sooner or later.


	4. Part V

I can’t exactly pinpoint the exact moment it was when I first heard about Mary.  
I guess it was just whispers at first, silent exchanges between members of the staff who had been there since the restaurant first opened.  
It was hard enough getting these people to open up to me with their concerns.  
To them I was this tall and intimidating war veteran who rarely smiled.  
But after the “Bite of ‘87”, things changed.

I guess that’s not entirely fair to say - things had begun to change since the animatronics first came in.  
There were all sorts of whispers and worried glances in different directions. All the incident with Foxy had done was further gather the paranoia into one giant mess that couldn’t be scrubbed clean.

The owner was constantly sweating.  
He’d always carry his handkerchief with him, wiping his face whenever it became heavy with worry.  
The day I happened to ask him, casually, who it was that designed the mascots, his face froze up.  
Instead of fear, there was anger in those deep set eyes.  
He insisted that the company owned all the rights to the characters and that there was nothing anyone could say or do to change that.

I had asked him this question after hearing murmurs from the staff about how they felt that the characters were cursed.  
It was all apparently “Mary’s” doing.  
Of course I couldn’t ask around right away. I don’t think there was a single staff member around who trusted me enough to open up.  
But after weeks of mounting tension and a continuously declining clientele, I decided to find my own answers.  
I asked around as quietly as I could, remembering how irritated the owner had been.  
I was still receiving a steady paycheck and for someone reeling in the years as I was, changing jobs just wasn’t a prospect I was comfortable with.  
It took a while but I finally followed a lead to a pair of workers on the kitchen staff.  
Eva and Anna had been there since the beginning and they stared at each other all wide eyed when I asked about Mary.  
It took a great deal of prodding, and I’m not proud of the methods I took, threatening them with losing their jobs if they didn’t comply with my asking questions on behalf of “security checks.”  
But they finally told me where I could find Mary.  
She was at an adult rehabilitation facility - a mental institution.  
Eva and Anna had been close with Mary; they had gone to school together. That’s why they knew this.  
They also knew that there was no way I’d be able to see her without claiming a relation.  
So that’s what I did.  
I called myself her uncle as I spoke with the receptionist with a stern face.  
I didn’t expect it to work. I wasn’t exactly good at these sorts of things.  
But I soon found myself lead to the back and face to face with Mary.

Her hair was tied back into a neat bun and her face was clean and fresh.  
Not exactly the kind of person I had expected to find. She didn’t fit the bill of crazed, disgraced former employee at all.  
She politely greeted me, recognizing at once why I was there. They did still get the news, after all.  
  
  
They still couldn’t quite pinpoint what exactly her malady was.  
She suffered from very vivid hallucinations, some which had the potential to cause her to intentionally put her life in danger in order to escape from.  
One of her ways of coping, before she had been admitted, was art.  
She would draw her fears, once they were out of her head and onto a piece of paper that were no longer as threatening. The key term being “as threatening.”

She had never intended for anyone to see her artwork of this nature.  
Certainly not her uncle, who stole several characters she drew and decided to use them as mascots for his new restaurant.  
I asked her why it was that she was in here.  
She told me it was because she had been to the restaurant on its opening night.  
Upon seeing her creations hop off of the pages she had drawn them on, grinning at her with their frozen, muffled faces, she had tried to kill herself.


	5. Part VI

We received one final shipment and then that was it.  
That Eastern European based company or group of individuals never contacted us again. The owner sure did try to get in touch, but after a while it became apparent that the company was no more. They had disbanded, leaving us four malfunctioning animatronics and a box of parts to fix them with.  
The news that the company was no more definitely helped with my anxiety. I had been worried about their intentions, them being part of a country with no political ties to our own.  
Them being disbanded meant that they no longer had the potential to pose any sort of threat to our nation’s security.

As for the shipment of parts - most of them were to be used for Bonnie and Chica, to fix up their joints and moving parts. The most prominent set of pieces, however, were the ones for Freddy. We had gotten pieces that were to be assembled on our current Freddy, if that made sense.

We weren’t sent over an entirely new model (as had been commissioned), but parts to use to customize our own.  
The owner was upset; of course, his financial investment had turned up a dud. But after we modified our current Freddy, his mood seemed to change.  
  
We shoved off the remnants of our old Freddy away - a mangled shell of broken down pieces that lacked a set of eyes.  
  
Our new Freddy looked so much more….I suppose, “grand”, is the word to use.  
His color was a rich mahogany, and his movements all in tune. He even got a new song, recorded for us by a popular local band. “It’s Me” played to crowds of patrons who had regained interest in the place.  
Business certainly picked up and our image, seemingly, had been saved.

It must have been late into Summer, during either ‘93 or ‘94, that I held the first overnight shift.  
We had been leaving the servos on the animatronics running at night - this helped clear their data banks in order to ensure they ran smoothly. It was something the now disbanded Eastern European based company or group of individuals had advised in their final letter to us.  
They also provided us with a device, a sort of wireless “hub” that could view images from cameras placed around the restaurant. It wasn’t the smoothest process, since the device was still a prototype and having it interact wirelessly with cameras could cause either to malfunction. Still, it did save the owner quite a bit on security costs (we no longer needed a main console) and he always was about saving money. So I guess it was kind of surprising when he announced that he had hired on a handful of additional security guards.


	6. SECURITY LOGS - [JANUARY 17TH - MAY 27TH (?), 1994]

I wanted to start taking down some of the accounts made to me by my security staff.  
They’ve been talking about things for as long as we’ve had an overnight shift but I’m now just getting around to writing this stuff down. As such, I might not accurately remember the exact dates before today (October 3rd, 1994).

But I do still remember their claims and I wanted to record them, lest the owner try to cover things up again.  
He’s a sneaky bastard, that’s for sure. Said the reason he hired on more security staff was because I was being “disrespectful” to those puppets. I’m not allowed to work the overnight shift because of that, so maybe I can’t exactly verify the things I’ve been told.  
But damn it if I won’t write them down, even if it’s out of spite.

January 17th, 1994:  
I can remember this date with certainty since it’s written in most of the hiring paperwork.   
We got five new staffers today, all assigned to work overnight shifts.   
I don’t really remember all of them that well since most of them were gone within a month or two. Except for one, but we’ll get more to her, later, as these logs continue.

January 21st (?), 1994.  
The first “incident”. Well, I guess you couldn’t really call an incident. Just an odd occurrence.   
Martinez had been reporting hearing music. He tried to brush it off as him being sleepy at first, and I suggested he take naps during the day to be more prepared.   
He’s working later with caffeine streaming through his blood stream and he thinks the music is getting louder. Apparently it’s coming from Pirate Cove. When he goes to investigate, it stops. I remind him that Pirate Cove has been closed for years.

February 25th (?), 1994:  
Mark’s been reporting the cameras going dead every time the animatronics move, again.  
He says he’ll be watching them through the cameras, standing motionlessly through in one room. Then the screen goes to static until they pop up in another room, standing still again as if nothing has happened.   
We chalk it up to the hub technology just being a bad prototype that’s causing interference with the cameras. I recommend he go check on things in person if the problem persists.

February 27th (?), 1994:  
Mark quits. Doesn’t say why.

March 2nd (?), 1994:  
Martinez swears he’s been seeing Foxy poke his head out of Pirate Cove.  
I tell him it’s impossible and so he decides to quit. At the time I thought he just had a problem with me being his boss.

March 13th (?), 1994:  
Dawson says he sees flashes of the lyrics to “It’s Me” across his hub screen. We had installed a projector that displayed the lyrics behind the band just recently. I told him it’s probably just interfering with the hub.

March 27th (?), 1994:  
Annie tells me she loves working here. She had been going to Freddy’s since she was a kid. She wanted to work as a mascot, but working as a security guard was fine for now. She was planning on trying to transfer, however, and so I started planning on hiring more staffers.

March 29th (?), 1994:  
Dawson says he’s been seeing lyrics flash before his eyes, even when he’s not looking at his screen.  
I didn’t know what to say to that.

April 15th (?), 1994:  
Dawson quits. Poor guy was in pretty bad shape.  
We were down to two guards now, just Annie and myself. I was about to sign myself up for some overnight shifts when we get a new guy, Paul.  
The owner insists that we don’t need any more people and makes me assign all shifts to Annie and Paul.

April 29th(?), 1994:  
I saw Annie depressed for the first time. Her constant attempts to transfer over to working as a mascot have failed.  
She never complains about anything else however.   
But today she complains about Paul. Says something just feels “off” about him.

May 27th (?), 1994:  
First concern I ever hear from Paul. Says he saw an older model of Freddy wandering around. That’s impossible.


	7. SECURITY LOGS - [MAY 29TH (?), 1994 - JULY 21ST, 1994]

I finally got to work the overnight shift for the first time. Hearing everything my staffers had been saying had me not knowing what to expect.

 

But you know, these kids, they’re always running on drugs, especially when they need to make it through an entire night.

Those drugs do things to you. I know that all too well, seeing what they did to my army buddies in ‘nam.

 

At night, all alone in the restaurant, you do hear things, it’s true. The place is old and we haven’t had the budget to fix the lighting.

As for the animatronics?

All they do is wander around. It’s the best way to get their servos data banks clean, leaving them running at night.

I mean sure, it may be a bit jarring to shine your flashlight to see one of their hollow metal faces inches away from you. But it’s really nothing to worry about.

(I might need to start requesting the company do drug tests for all new employees. All that stuff they’re on makes them prone to see things that aren’t really there.)

 

May 30th (?), 1994:

 

Paul swears he saw that old Freddy model again. Said he was watching Chica wander about on the cameras when she stopped near the kitchens in front of a disjointed silhouette.

I told that kid to stop imagining things and had him go take a drug test immediately.

That old Freddy model has been lying around in a storage closet for years now. It doesn’t even have a servos unit anymore.

 

June 7th, 1994:

 

I’m able to remember these dates a bit more clearly. Don’t exactly know why.

 

I remember walking up that morning and finally realizing how old I was.

I’d been with the company for nearly 30 years now. It wasn’t a complaint, just an observation.

I never really did have anything else planned besides work when I came back from the war. My mother needed me to support her. It wasn’t going to help our financial situation for me to go to college like the government had urged. My father had died and we needed money now.

Well, now my mother was dead too.

And I’m still at work.

 

I’m rambling on way too much. Guess I really am getting old.

This is supposed to be a security log, not my personal journal.

 

Anyways, there weren’t any more complaints for a week. Paul got that drug test (it was negative) and he stopped his incessant complaining.

I could still see something in his face from time to time, as if there was something he thought he saw that he really wanted to report.

But he knew better, thankfully.

 

June 8th, 1994:

 

The next complaint that came from Annie wasn’t surprising in the least.

It was always about Paul.

“Paul did this, Paul messed with the settings on the hub devices too much, Paul left food in the security office and it stank up the place,” etc.

Oh, and she still really wanted to transfer over to working as a mascot.

Seemed to be her crying call - complain about Paul, and then rant about wanting to be a mascot.

 

June 19th, 1994:

 

Business has been bad, but my pay is mostly the same on account of all the overnight shifts I’ve been working.

Paul’s been calling out a lot lately. He’s always too sick or too busy with homework. Ordinarily I’d start getting on his case, but picking up his shifts means more money for me.

Guess that’s the only reason why I’ve stayed here for so long. The owner may like to cut corners with everything, but he does know how to compensate his employees.

Today I got a pretty handsome check, one that I’d probably never have gotten if I’d stayed with that security firm all those years back.

 

July 9th, 1994:

Annie swears she heard whispers coming from the women’s restrooms. Ah, damn it Annie, not you too. Looks like I’ll have to have her take a drug test.

 

July 17th, 1994:

Annie’s results came back negative. She was so offended that I had ordered her to take the test. She seemed really upset that I couldn’t trust her anymore.

Spew shit about things you thought you saw and you bet your ass I’ll have a hard time believing anything you say afterwards.

 

July 21st, 1994:

Paul says he saw “Golden Freddy” again. How many goddamn times have we been through this?  



	8. SECURITY LOGS - [ AUGUST 4TH, 1994 - OCTOBER 29TH, 1994 ]

The owner has been glaring at me with those deep set eyes of his.

He wants to replace me because I’m “disrespectful” to his animatronics. The animatronics whose designs he stole from his mentally ill niece, without offering her any sort of compensation.

He would like nothing better than to replace me with Paul or Annie. But they’re just kids.

Paul’s on drugs (I know he’s taking them in some way to avoid failing a drug test. I must have made him take at least 3 by now.)

And Annie’s always going on and on about how she’d rather work as a mascot.

It’s all I ever hear from her.

 

August 4th, 1994:

This hub technology can get pretty irksome. I can see now why so many folks had complained about. It’s shaped kind of like a heavy book, with a screen in the middle. It’s able to connect to all the cameras set up in the restaurant, but it doesn’t always do that so well. Sometimes there’s a good deal of static and some screens just completely black out. But seeing things flash across the screen? That doesn’t make a bit of sense. Tonight the screen cut out while Chica was moving towards the restrooms, but that doesn’t prove anything. I refuse to believe that it’s the servos that have been interfering with our signals, as some had suggested. The screen can go haywire at any moment, regardless if there’s an animatronic in view or not.

 

 

August 29th, 1994:

I’ve had it. I’ve seriously had it.

I would fire Paul right now if it was up to me. But the owner insists that all hiring and firing decisions be left to him.

Plus, Paul “respects” the animatronics. He’s always bringing in his younger brother to watch the band play. And he’s even drawn art work! Apparently the kid wants to be a comic book artist. I’ve been hearing that the owner is looking into hiring him to do some promotional work. That’s ridiculous if it’s true. But it would mean that I wouldn’t need to hear about “Golden Freddy” anymore.

 

September 2nd, 1994:

The owner put up a poster Paul drew of Freddy. You look a little closer and you realize it’s not actually Freddy.

But I wouldn’t say it looks like the older model. We decommissioned that years ago.

 

September 17th, 1994:

Annie tried to file a harassment case against Paul. Said he was…..doing “something” in the parking lot.

Unsurprisingly, the report never got filed.

 

October 2nd, 1994:

What just happened?

No really, what the fuck?

I come into work this morning and there’s a squad car in the parking lot.

Apparently five kids went missing from a birthday party last night. And Paul was working.

So they cuffed him and lead him out.

 

October 3rd, 1994:

Paul’s being questioned, I’m being questioned, Annie’s being questioned, the owner is trying to save face.

I don’t even understand what’s going on anymore.

Business is tanking. I don’t think I’ve seen things get this bad since…well, ever.

 

October 29th, 1994:

They couldn’t find those kids.


End file.
